That night, AJ stayedup readingLaughter & Deathuntil her flashlight grew dim. The book provided comprehensive instructions on improv craft—covering everything from agreement to edits. Ezell’s writing had a cryptic, sphynx-like quality that gave his wisdom a mystical air.
Laughter is a response to psychic death. We could have died. We didn’t. So we laugh.
Those who are in the Black Room can’t tell you where to find it. You can only find it if you know where it is.
The game of a scene is its soul, its truth, its essence.
It was dense reading. According toLaughter & Death,improv games were not merely observational fodder, but real psychopathologies people endlessly played out to avoid unwanted feelings.
All people play games. They’re given to us by parents, teachers, and society at large, the scripts written long in advance. Here’s what they’ll never tell you: you don’t have to play.
As AJ skimmed the long appendix of games that followed, she thought of the ones she had invented for her own family.King of Diamonds. Queen of Clubs. Card Shark. Dealer. Joker.
Then her eye snagged on the game “Alcoholic.” Beside it, Noah had scratched one word:Dad.
AJ felt a sickening wave of heat—anger at what he’d witnessed theother night and embarrassment at her own reaction when he’d tried to talk to her about it.
He’d wanted to help; she could see that now. He had no way of knowing she’d never spoken to an outsider about her father. She barely spoke of it with her siblings. Their silence stemmed from a simple logic: if they didn’t speak of it, it wasn’t happening.
But it was happening—that’s why Noah bearing witness had been so painful.
As AJ readLaughter & Death,her mind kept drifting to the boy who had scrawled things likeSpecious at BestandCogito Ergo Sumin the margins. She thought of all he had shared with her, and how bruised he had looked when she had pushed him away.
There can be no trust without understanding,Noah had underlined.It’s the foundation on which castles are built and razed and built again.
That night, AJ fell asleep staring at his handwriting.
They didn’t have actingpractice on Saturdays, but they both worked. When Noah came in just after four, he looked worn. AJ knew right away he’d been to see his mom.
“Hey,” she said, giving him a small smile.
“Hey,” said Noah, his eyes brightening.
Then they were in the Saturday rush.Mansfield Parkwas the video release of the weekend. AJ offloaded all fifteen of Reel World’s copies within the first hour of their shift.
By ninep.m., the store had quieted down, and AJ popped anAstronauticalsVHS into the Panasonic. She chose episode 2.10: “Fire & Water,” the one where the crew visited a world where they had the ability to manipulate, orweave,elements.
As the opening credits began to roll, Noah stepped through the beaded curtain. He gave her a weary smile, then folded himself into the metal chair beside her stool.
AJ offered him her Ziploc bag of Reese’s Puffs as young Ezell andEudora appeared onscreen. “I’m honored,” said Noah, accepting the cereal.
“You should be,” said AJ. “How’s your mom?”
“The same. We’ve got another round of tests next week.”
AJ shifted. “Maybe Eudora could go check on her tomorrow, give you a break.”
Noah laughed. “That would never happen,” he said flatly. “They hate each other.”
“Why?”
Noah ran a hand over his face. “Because my mom thinks Eudora is an uppity bitch who spoiled my dad, and Eudora thinks my mom is a meddling foster kid who drove my dad to drin—Well, you know.”
Onscreen, the special effects were at their 1964 jankiest. AJ and Noah watched Captain Shoe unfurl a blue streamer at Glimmette:water weaving.Glimmette shot back a red streamer:fire weaving.
“Apparently those were left over from a birthday party,” said Noah, offering AJ an out.
She kept her eyes forward as she asked, “How old were you? When you knew he had a problem.”
